We'll Meet Again
by SeverusHermioneForever
Summary: It's 1938 and Mycroft and Lestrade are soldiers fighting for their country as well as lovers. However along the way, due to Mycroft being upper rank he gets sent to another country and the only way they can comfort one another is by sending each other letters during the hard times. Mystrade and JohnLock.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: **We'll Meet Again

**Pairings: **Mycroft/Lestrade

**Summary: **It's 1938 and Mycroft and Lestrade are soldiers fighting for their country as well as lovers. However along the way, due to Mycroft being upper rank he gets sent to another country and the only way they can comfort one another is by sending each other letters during the hard times.

* * *

_We'll meet again  
Don't know where  
Don't know when  
But I know we'll meet again some sunny day  
-Vera Lynn_

* * *

"Pah!" Lestrade spat at his feet and wiped the mud away from his face with his dirty sleeve before putting on his helmet roughly. It was December and the weather was bitter and cold, the cold was sneaking up on him like a lion sneaking upon its prey and giving him a bad cough and he was frozen to the bone. He gave a slight cough and he grimaced at the sight before him.

They were in No Man's land and the sight before him made him want to vomit but he dared not do that otherwise he would get another telling of from Dimmock. He could see blood splattered here and there throughout the muddy ground, some of the wires were torn and there were bodies laid before him that were tangled up in the wires, some were even still alive but no man dared go and rescue them despite them calling for help.

Poor bastards.

"Bloody war," He muttered, shaking his head. He could kill for a cigarette and a warm glass of whisky right now.

"'Sup with you?" A voice asked and he turned his head sideways only to find that it was his friend John Watson marching up to him. His rifle hunched on his back.

"Nothing," He replied, sighing. "Just thinking that I could kill for a cigarette right now."

John chuckled and took his place next to him, placing his rifle carefully just in case he had to fire at any moment. "I hope you don't mean that literally." He paused. "Although I'll admit this; I do miss the occasional beer."

"Don't we all? When this bloody war is over and when we can all go home, I'm going to drink until I'm so pissed I can't even remember my name."

John nodded in agreement. "May have to agree with you on that one mate. Though the reason why I have come here is that I have a message for you,"

"Oh? Not Anderson again I hope," Lestrade scowled. Anderson was one of the soldiers that worked with them and was always bothering Lestrade whenever he could. Possibly just so he could tick him of.

John snorted. "No it's from Lieutenant Mycroft. He wants to see you in the base."

He nodded. "Will you take over my watch for tonight?"

"Of course. Though you owe me one Lestrade!"

Lestrade rolled his eyes before sauntering of to find Mycroft. It took him fifteen minutes for him to reach the base and when he did it had just started to chuck it down and he glared at the sky.

He wasn't a religious man but at this moment he felt the gods were making mockery of him.

There were whispers in the base and he looked up to see Lieutenant Mycroft speaking to his brother, otherwise known as General Sherlock and both brothers silenced when Lestrade arrived.

"Go Sherlock. I'll expect to see you later." Mycroft patted his brother on the back but Sherlock didn't move.

"Do you have to?" Sherlock hissed and Mycroft looked deep into his brother's eyes.

"You know I do Sherlock. You know how much it will disappoint mummy if I don't."

Lestrade wondered what was going on but he expected Mycroft would tell him as soon as Sherlock disappeared.

With one last piercing glare at his brother, Sherlock stormed off, sulking like a five year old child and Mycroft dropped his facade.

"Mycroft?" Lestrade asked his lover gently, walking closer to the table. Not even looking at the plans that was laid upon it.

Mycroft looked up and Lestrade could see bags underneath his eyes. He was tired, they all were. It's only been two years of this war but the war has made them feel like old men. They had all seen too much.

"Greg, I have some news..." He trailed off. Mycroft was the only person who called Lestrade Greg. Lestrade has had a history of nicknames in the armed forces and soldiers even called him the silver fox and he wasn't sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult. However his real name was Gregory Lestrade.

Lestrade felt uneasy and he swallowed down a lump that had formed in his throat. "What news?"

"Tomorrow at noon I am leaving and I won't be returning. " Mycroft stated.

Lestrade froze. But this...this couldn't be happening. Mycroft was his only mean of escape and felt like he was not going insane from this bloody war. With Mycroft he felt the world had stopped spinning and felt whole. The only times he ever felt at peace was when he was with him. "Y-y-you can't be leaving!" Lestrade managed to splutter and he realized he sounded rather selfish but at this moment he didn't care. He didn't want to lose his only source of happiness.

Mycroft refused to look up and started to fiddle with the maps on the table. "I have to. I have been sent orders to do so and you know I can't disobey those orders Greg."

"Why are you leaving?"

"They need a Lieutenant somewhere close to Berlin to command a group of troops. I'm not sure how long I'll be staying there but I have a feeling it's going to be a while."

"Can't you try and delay it?" He asked though he knew Mycroft was right. There was no use in stopping him.

His lover shook his head.

Lestrade pinched the bridge of his nose before leaning against the table for balance. It was as though the air had been knocked out of his lungs and his legs felt weak and he felt light-headed.

Could he just have one good day just this once?

"There is nothing I can do Greg...nothing." Mycroft whispered and he ran his hand through his hair.

Lestrade took of his helmet and threw it to the ground, ignoring the loud noise it made once it hit the wooden floor-boards and slowly made his way over to him.

"Then best make most of the time we have left together." He leaned in and kissed Mycroft on the lips deeply, Mycroft sighing with pleasure and he wrapped his arms around his lovers neck. Both feeling content.

* * *

"Lestrade? Lestrade!" Someone shook Greg roughly by the shoulders and Lestrade grunted in annoyance and rolled over only to have his bed sheet took of him. "C'mon mate wake up." Somebody slapped both of his cheeks and Lestrade groggily opened his eyes.

"I'm up god damn it." He grumbled and he ran his hand through his messy silver hair before looking over next to where Mycroft slept last night only to find the space empty and his heart sank. However he did notice a letter on the green dirty bag which was meant to be a pillow and hurriedly snatched it.

"Thank god you're awake. It's half noon and we're moving further down the trench and General Sherlock is coming this way so you best be ready before he gets here." As Lestrade was now wide awake, he realized it was John who was speaking and he nodded before he hurriedly put on his uniform. Not giving a damn if he stood stark naked in front of his friend who kept a look out for Sherlock.

How could of Lestrade overslept? How could he not of said goodbye to his lover Mycroft? Right then he felt so ashamed of himself for not saying goodbye to his lover.

However he had no time to dwell on it because as soon as he was ready, General Sherlock marched in and looked up and down at Lestrade, deducing him.

The two brothers had this weird trick that most people didn't like as it made them uneasy but to John and Lestrade, it didn't bother them however it sometimes got out of hand with Sherlock whereas with Mycroft he was more civil about it.

Sherlock wrinkled his nose. "Get moving Private Lestrade. We don't want to be late." He turned away before stopping in front of the tent and turned around to face him again. "And put some cologne on you for gods sake. I can smell sex all over you." Lestrade blushed and John shot Lestrade an apologetic glance.

* * *

It was dusk by the time Lestrade finally got to read the letter and he sat down underneath a dim lamp that he found and he opened the letter hurriedly and began to read. Shivering now and then as he read it.

_Greg,_

_By the time you have found this letter I would have already left your side and have made my way across the boarder by now. I want to tell you now that when I was leaving, every inch of my heart broke as I stepped further and further away from you._

_No doubt that during war time the both of us will be in unbearable pain during one point or another and I hope for both of our sakes we can both of us can survive this whole ordeal and can return home as soon as possible to put the nightmare of it all behind us. _

_I think the only thing to keep us both sane during these hard times ahead is to right letters to each other. I have attached another piece of paper with the location I am currently at and you must not give this address to anyone. Not even Sherlock you understand?_

_Of course you understand._

_People call me the Ice-man Greg did you know? It was a common nickname for me even before I joined the Army and since then it has always been attached to me. Just like people call you the silver fox. The Ice man and the silver fox. What a strange pair we are._

_Please take good care of yourself and please take care of Sherlock. He hasn't taken my absence well even if he won't admit it._

_Mycroft,_

_P.s,_

_I will miss you._

Lestrade sniffed and shoved the letter in his front pocket as well as the attached piece of paper. Bloody Mycroft. Making him sentimental now.

"Turn the bloody light of! The Jerry's could see us any moment!" Anderson hissed angrily at Lestrade before turning the lamp of and before he knew it, darkness consumed them.

Darkness and him are old friends.

* * *

**Hey guys! I hope you liked the first chapter of my Lestrade/Mycroft AU fanfic. Its going to be a short multi-chapter fanfiction I think depending on my muse. So I hope you all enjoy it!**

**Also another note, Jerry is what the British soldiers use to name the German soldiers during World War Two. The German Soldiers nick-named the British soldiers as Tommy's. I hope that makes sense!**


	2. Chapter 2

_Keep smiling through,  
__Just like you always do,  
__Till the blue skies chase those dark clouds far away._

_-Vera Lynn _

* * *

_1939_

It has been a year and two months since Mycroft has last seen Gregory Lestrade and his brother. A year and two months since he has been positioned in Germany itself and life itself hasn't been easy on him during that time and he figured life's not going to be kind for him for a long period of time.

"There's fifteen soldiers in the village all together sir. No tanks, however they do have vehicles parked near the church and most of them are on patrol near the main street and change shifts every three hours." Henry Knight spoke, a fellow soldier Mycroft worked along side with. "Oh and a letter arrived for you sir with a package. It got caught in the mud along the way I suppose but it arrived nonetheless." He took out a dirty looking envelope from his large duffle bag and Mycroft knew that this was another letter from Lestrade and he eagerly snatched it and stuck it in his own breast pocket, not wanting to read it in front of Henry. As much as he liked Henry, he preferred to read his letters in privacy.

"Thank you Henry. Any news from your father yet?" Henry's father has been missing in the moors back in England a few months ago and no word has been heard from him since. People presumed that he got caught up in a bomb raid up near home and haven't found his body but Henry and Mycroft both know that his father does not go anywhere near the big cities anymore.

Henry shook his head gravely before wiping a handkerchief across his forehead to get rid of the sweat. "None sir. But I will keep my hopes up."

Mycroft nodded. "You do that. You are free for now."

"Thank you sir." With one last salute, he left the tent in a hurry.

Finally Mycroft was at peace and he looked at the entrance of the tent hesitantly as though somebody was watching him from the outside before he opened his letter with the knife that was stuck in the middle of the table and gave a slight smile when he saw the letter belong to Lestrade.

_Mycroft,_

_I hope you are well. Better than I am at any rate I suppose with you being higher rank. Yesterday your brother got shot in the shoulder when we were ambushed by the Jerry's in a closed forest but Doctor John Watson says he's going to be back on his feet in no time. He's a bloody tough one your brother. I killed the man that shot Sherlock but I'd say this; I didn't take any pleasure in killing the fellow. _

_It seems like centuries ago since we have last saw seen each other and every day my hair is getting more and more whiter. My toes feel like they're going to drop of any second and most of the time I can't feel the bones in my hands. I miss you like hell. _

_Do you remember Molly from St. Barts in London who we used to work with? The shy and quite one who always wore the charity shop clothes? Well, we received very tragic news last week from Dimmock. Molly was working on night shifts one night and the very same night Molly was working the Jerry's decided to bomb London and one of the buildings they hit was St. Barts and Molly was trapped in the building and died within the flames._

_Molly. Our Molly. I can't believe she's gone. God is making us fools._

_We are hearing strange rumours of a German man named Moriarty around here and people even say that they fear him. Do people fear him where you are? Sherlock says the name rings a bell but he won't tell me anything more. _

_I feel lost without you Mycroft. I don't know how long I can survive in this bloody war until it drives me insane. I hope I get to see you soon._

_Oh, I hope you like the gift. It's your birthday soon and we went to a French village the other week and I saw this and it reminded me of you. I hope it arrived okay-I know it's not first class postage but you get my drift._

_Take care of yourself My. _

_Gregory Lestrade_

Mycroft gave a slight smile as he finished reading the letter and he picked up the package. It was a large rectangular sized green box and he opened it only to find that it was a chocolate-brown feather quill. Similar to the one he used to have when he used to work for the Government back in England and with trembling hands, he picked up the feather quill and began to stroke it, it's soft feathers tickling him between his fingers gently. He obviously knew Sherlock helped Lestrade pay for the feather quill as Lestrade came from a lower class family and could not afford to buy such a beautiful piece of art but Mycroft didn't care, he hadn't received a gift in a long time and to know that Lestrade knew that Mycroft loved feather quills was touching.

Guess the Ice-man had human feelings after all.

He carefully put the feather quill back in it's green box and sat down on the chair, re-reading the letter again and bit his bottom lip when he read the part that Sherlock got shot. Mycroft knew he had the right people working for his brother and was thankful he was the one who appointed them before he moved over to a town near Berlin.

He grabbed some pieces of parchment and found a bottle of ink (to his luck), and began writing his reply back to Lestrade with his brand new feather quill.


End file.
